She was a quiet little creature. Very aloof. Not one to fit in with the rest of the group. She was not the one to have the abundance of followers. She was not the one that led the pack. She was no one.

She was nothing.

Every day, she was the shadow. There were no sounds. No words. Hardly anyone remembered her. If they did, they did not remember her for long.

She was nothing.

The world was surrounded by noise. There was nothing but energy. Life. Speed. It was the rushed life. Who had time? There was only the high.

She was nothing.

People could drop off the face of the earth. No one had the moment to spare. There were no people to stop . It was all just a highway. Everyone was in their flashy cars. Who cared about the insignificant few?

She was nothing.

One day, a few paused. The local paper had her face. But who was she? Was she anyone important?

She was nothing.

The world picked up. Moved on. Her face slipped into the archives. No one remembered her. Why would they?

She was nothing.

 

 

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